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<title>Intelligence usually comes far too fucking late. by Neon_Monkeys</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25738093">Intelligence usually comes far too fucking late.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neon_Monkeys/pseuds/Neon_Monkeys'>Neon_Monkeys</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Anarchy [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Peaky Blinders, Tokyo Ghoul</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cuz Alfie Solomons, Gen, M/M, Short little baby of a fic, Swearing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:13:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>353</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25738093</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neon_Monkeys/pseuds/Neon_Monkeys</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Alfie knows quite a lot more than he lets on. Or In which Alfie doesn’t know what’s smooth and what’s awkward and doesn’t know how to broach the topic.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Anarchy [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1852915</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Intelligence usually comes far too fucking late.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Series 2 Episode 2.<br/>Finn is 21.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Tommy first met Alfie Solomons he was exactly and nothing as he’d thought he’d be. Everything about him screamed violent. He was big and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes Pol not just big for me. </span>
  </em>
  <span>His clothes were disheveled and not inexpensive. Vest unbuttoned and shirt untucked. Beard clean but uncared for otherwise. He had a large mustache that sat below his nose all of a centimeter from his wire rimmed glasses when he wore them. He fiddled with the gold watch occasionally hanging from his apron. Not only that but he walked exactly as he talked like a boar. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Solomons had a large dominating aura and he spoke as if straining to stay calm. As if cornered and the one doing the cornering. The way he acted constantly contradicted his previous actions. Unpredictable and dangerous. But Tommy was a dangerous man too. Solomons was boorish and loud and his temper spilled over occasionally. More importantly however he was calculated. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The more time Tommy spent in his presence the more he talked and talked and talked. It was annoying at first but Tommy soon grew used to the lull and only the stupid didn’t listen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thomas,” The Thomas in question had gotten used to being called Thomas after the various meetings and telephone calls. He raises his head from the papers he’d previously been occupied with. “Do you have any cousins going by Shelby?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. Dare I ask why, Mr. Solomons.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Solomons leaned across the space between them, mouth so close to his head he can feel the exhale of his nose. “There’s just this new tattoo artist in town and he kind of reminds me of you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And how’s that, Mr. Solomons?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, he just has the same uncanny habit of putting himself in the way of hazards at every turn.” Solomons began to muse as he leaned backwards, “Finn Shelby, I believe his name was.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy didn’t know whether he was excited, happy, sad, liberated or dying. He was just lucky to be breathing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Know him mate?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shame. He was a real fucking case. Guess Shelby must just be a common name then.”</span>
</p>
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